Diary of the Unforgiven
by lightblue-Nymphadora
Summary: James Sirius Potter's life changes forever one night while he's on the run with his father. AU Dark!fic
1. Chapter 1

_**LbN: I'm going to regret having two stories open, I'm sure, but I couldn't stay away from this idea any longer. Happy reading!**_

_They leave us so to the way we took,_

_As two in whom them were proved mistaken,_

_That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,_

_With mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look,_

_And try if we cannot feel forsaken._

_~Robert Frost_

_

* * *

_

"Daddy, please can we stop?" James asked, panting. He leaned against the nearest tree, eyes drooping.

"We have to keep going, son," Harry said. He looked at his watch. It was already eleven o'clock. He made a small purple fire and took his son's bag. "Unroll your sleeping bag and stay here."

"Where are you going?" James asked fearfully.

"Just to scout out the area. I'll be back soon," he said, smiling. "Rest while you can." He watched his son get into the small green sleeping bag. It only took about five minutes for James to fall asleep, and by that time Harry had finished putting up protective spells. He gave his son a kiss and began walking toward the town.

* * *

He counted the days in his head. At eight in the morning, they would've been on the run for exactly 600 days. 600 days since Voldemort had won the war. 490 since most of the Weasley family had been killed, Ginny with them. The rumor was that Fred, and possibly George, had escaped, but Harry knew better than to hope. 200 days since Neville had found them, and told them he was going after Bellatrix. 185 days since he'd been killed.

"3 days since we've had a decent meal…" Harry muttered, slipping into the shadows of a pub. He ran into the town square and sent out a Patronus in each direction. Within a second, he was surrounded. He ducked as a few stunning spells whizzed by. Quickly, he blew up the fountain to his left, noting with satisfaction the sounds of pain. Before anyone could recover, he Disapparated.

He Apparated into the clearing, holding his hands up so James wouldn't shoot him. Of course, at five, the boy couldn't do much more than shoot sparks, but you never knew what fear could do to help his magic along. "Come on, time to go."

"But Daddy, I thought—"

"I made a scene in town. The woods will be swarming with Death Eaters in a minute." He smothered the fire and helped James out of his sleeping bag. When the boy had rolled it up and slung it over his shoulder, he held out his arm. "Got your wand?"

James nodded, patting his jacket. He took Harry's arm and they Disapparated.

* * *

"It'll just be for tonight and tomorrow night," Harry told the innkeeper. On the outskirts of Edinburgh, he felt relatively safe checking into an inn instead of camping. Plus, James was falling asleep at his side and needed to eat.

"Room six, sir," the innkeeper said, handing Harry a key. "Have a good night."

Harry picked James up and carried him down the hall. Once they were in the room, he set the boy on the bed and spent the next twenty minutes making the closet into a suitable hiding space, making sure to make it sound proof. Finally, it was finished. "James, come on. Just ten more minutes, and then you can sleep all you want."

After a quick bath and a change of clothes, Harry tucked his son back into bed.

"Why don't we just leave, Daddy?" James whispered, already half asleep.

"Soon, James. I just want to find any family we might have left. Your Auntie Tonks is still out there. And your Uncle Fred too." Harry stopped. He shouldn't get the kid's hopes up. True, he'd heard rumors just in the last week that Tonks was still around and causing trouble for the Death Eaters. And Fred…. If the twins were alive, they were laying low. He hadn't had access to a Wireless in weeks, so he didn't know if Potterwatch was still up and running. "Just another week. I know two years on the run has been hard for you, but I promise, next week, no matter what, we'll start over. Sleep now."

James was already there.

Harry lay next to him, mind still working too hard and too fast for sleep to come. With a deep breath, he forced himself to close his eyes.

* * *

They ordered room service the next day, and stayed in. James nearly cried when he took the first bite of his waffle….They spent the day planning. James wanted to know all about America, and where they'd be staying. Harry was trying to think of the best way to find out some more information in the week they had left. It was a quiet, rainy day, and Harry was glad for it. By sunset, both Potters' spirits had been boosted considerably.

"James, I want you to stay in the hiding place tonight," Harry said as his son pulled on his pajamas. "I know, it's been a while since you've had a bed, but I want to be sure we're safe."

"Yes, Daddy," James said, a little sulkily.

Harry smiled. "One more week."

* * *

The closet was pitch black when James woke up, but he could see into the room just a bit. There were men there, all pointing wands at his father. The five year old grasped his own wand, which had been his mother's, and sat perfectly still, trying to stop shaking.

"We knew we'd find you, Potter," someone said.

"Where's the boy?" a wheezy voice asked.

"Somewhere far away, where you won't be able to touch him," Harry said calmly.

"Let's get this over with," the first voice snarled. "Call Malfoy. He'll want to see to this person—ack!"

James watched fearfully as his father fought the men. He heard someone say something he couldn't quite understand, and then his dad fell. "Daddy!" he yelped, but no one heard him.

"Damn it, Yaxley!" a new voice said. It belonged to a man who was now kneeling by the older Potter. "I said no Sectumsempra! Take him outside while Zabini and I clear the room."

"Look for the brat too," the man named Yaxley said. "He said he sent the kid away, but I think he's lying."

James scooted to the back of the closet and watched the scene through the crack under the door. Two men were dragging his dad away, leaving a trail of dark red liquid. The other two men were tearing the room apart.

"Whatever you're thinking, Draco, don't," the man named Zabini said quietly.

"How do you know I'm thinking anything."

"I know you. If we find him—"

"You heard Potter. He sent him away."

There was silence for a moment, then Zabini said, in a defeated tone, "I'll go make sure they've done the job properly, then."

James burrowed into the blankets as footsteps got closer and closer to his hiding spot. The man opened the closet and looked around. James stayed as silent as possible. He listened to the man chant in Latin for a few moments, and then he felt a hand over his mouth. He tried to kick, or yell for his dad, but the blonde man's grip was firm.

The man shook his head and put a finger to his lips. He picked up James and the backpack, vanished the sleeping bag and pillows, and Disapparated.

* * *

The mansion was vast. James was too scared even to cry. He was shaking.

"Don't be frightened," the blonde man said. "I won't hurt you. I'm going to keep you safe."

"Where's Daddy?" James sniffled.

The man paused. "He had to go away. You'll be safe with me." They walked into the house. "You must call me 'Father' from now on."

"But—!"

"You must. If I am to keep you safe, everyone must think you are one of my sons. Astoria, dear…."

A beautiful, if sleepy looking, woman was coming down the stairs. "No need to explain, Draco…I suppose a child is the next logical step in the odd things you've brought home."

"Get him to bed. In the morning, before the servants get to his room, I'll have to make him look like a Malfoy."

"And his name?"

"James Sirius," James answered quietly.

"Not anymore. Abraxas James," he told Astoria.

"Come, Abraxas," Astoria sighed.

James hesitated before taking Astoria's hand.

"You don't have to worry," Draco said. "But could I have your wand for safekeeping?"

"No!" James shouted, backing away quickly.

"Alright, alright," Draco said, holding up his hands. "We'll talk more tomorrow. You can meet your brother at breakfast."

James relaxed a bit as Astoria picked him up.

"Good night, Abraxas," Draco said.

_**LbN: Hope you liked it! Reviews are most welcome! :)**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Diary of the Unforgiven**

James awoke with a start. He couldn't remember exactly where he was. The bed was large and soft. "Daddy?" he said. Then, the images of the previous night came back to him. He heard a soft _click!_ and burrowed back under the covers, pretending to be asleep.

A moment later, the covers were pulled back, and the woman from the night before looked down at him. "Good morning, Abraxas."

"That's not my name."

Astoria sighed and took out her wand.

James panicked and scooted across the bed.

* * *

Silently, Astoria cast the spell. She should've know the child wouldn't voluntarily change. Better to modify his memory now than have him…embarrass them later. "Come, Abraxas. Let's get you ready for breakfast."

"Yes…mother," the boy said slowly. "My head feels funny. What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Look at me," she took his face in one slender hand and with a wave of her wand, she transfigured his hair into a short, spiky cut. The potion by his bed was bubbling. "You need to drink that," she said, nodding at it.

"It looks gross," he said.

"You need it. It has your vitamins."

He pinched his nose and drank it quickly, shuddering. "My eyes feel weird."

"That happens sometimes. Look at me." Astoria smiled. He was Abraxas now—blonde hair and gray eyes. Your clothes are hanging over there. Hurry and get dressed."

* * *

"How is he?" Draco asked.

"I modified his memory. It was the only way if your ridiculous plan is going to work."

"Did I ask for commentary?"

"No. You also didn't ask if I wanted to be a mother twice over. You didn't ask if I wanted to be a mother to the most wanted fugitive in the Wizarding world. You didn't ask if you could con my best friend into bringing forged adoption papers by the house," she said, nodding to where Blaise was walking into the kitchen. "You didn't consult me on any of those things, so I figured I could run some commentary without asking your opinion."

Draco reddened a bit, but didn't say anything else to her. "Thanks Blaise."

"You owe me," Blaise said, dropping a file in front of him. He took an orange from the bowl, nodded at the couple, and exited.

"Draco."

"What, Astoria?" he asked, wearily.

"Tell me why, and I'll let it go. Of all the kids, why this one?"

"Poetic justice?"

Astoria glared at him. "I swear by Merlin's favorite pointy hat that I will send him straight to the orphanage if this is about revenge."

"Of course not, dear," Draco said, smiling. "The child will be powerful. He'll be an asset to the Malfoy name when he gets older."

"You don't trust our own son to do that?"

"Yes, but I enjoy the fact I'll be able to see what a Potter can do when raised properly. Of course, no one will know but us. Still…"

Astoria folded her napkin and placed it on the table. "If we keep him, we're doing this properly. Whatever…grudge…you had against Potter, consider it settled."

"Yes, dear," Draco said. He knew she didn't believe him, but he didn't care. As long as she wasn't going to make a fuss, he could deal with the glares. "Ah, there are the boys now." He stood and pulled out two chairs as Scorpius and Ja—Abraxas, came into the dining room.

"Father, this boy is following me," Scorpius said. "Who is he? Why was he in my wing of the Manor this morning?"

"This is your new brother, Abaxas," Draco said.

Scorpius looked suspiciously at him for a moment before apparently deciding that it wasn't a big deal and starting in on his breakfast.

Draco chuckled. "I have some business to attend to this morning. I'll be back in the afternoon to take them to Diagon Alley," he told Astoria. He leaned down to give her a kiss, but she glared at him. He smiled. "Make sure you find the wand he had last night," he said quietly.

* * *

"They tell me you've been quiet this morning," Draco said. "I'm surprised. You usually had so much to say."

"Things change," Harry said.

Draco took a moment to look at his former schoolmate's bruises. He'd thought they'd be worse. "I'm going to kill you."

"I know. Get on with it. I'm not getting out of this one."

"You should know, your son is safe."

"I know. He knew what to do if I was ever caught."

"Mmm, not quite what I meant. You see, I have him. I'll take good care of him." For the first time that morning, he saw true fear in Harry's eyes. "Whose wand was it that he had?"

"His mother's."

"Weasley." Draco nodded.

"Don't hurt my son."

"He's my son now. _Avada Kedavra_."

* * *

"Father, I want this," Scorpius said, picking up a Quaffle.

"No. We're here to get clothes, not equipment." Draco turned to talk to the man at the till.

"Scorpius, toss it here," Abraxas said.

"Your boys are darling," the man said, handing Draco his change.

"Thank you." He heard a crash behind him and whipped around. "Scorpius! Abraxas!" He stomped over to where the two were climbing out of a pile of brooms.

"Sorry Father," Scorpius said, running towards the door.

"Sorry Daddy. Ow!" Abraxas yelped as Draco caught him by the arm.

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Draco shoved him roughly toward Scorpius. With a deep breath to steady his thoughts, he went back to the cashier to take their bags.

**_LbN: Hope you liked it! Send reviews please! :)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**LbN: Hope you like the chapter! Happy reading! There's one more chapter after this, and the next one will deal with Abraxas/James' time at Hogwarts. Scorpius will appear more in that one.**_

Abraxas slid deeper into the closet, pulling the cloaks around him. His heart thundered and he held his breath as footsteps thundered toward his room.

A moment later, light flooded the closet and Draco stormed in. He went right to Abraxas' hiding spot and pulled him out. The boy went flying to the floor a few feet away. "Explain this." He held out what looked like a broken snow globe for Abraxas to inspect.

"I didn't do it!" the eight-year-old said.

"Really?"

"Not on purpose," Abraxas mumbled.

"Learn to control yourself," Draco growled. "This is the third time this week you've made something explode. This was a priceless Malfoy heirloom."

"It's just an old seer's globe," Abraxas pouted.

"It's a pureblood artifact that was centuries old before you got to it!" Draco shouted. He took a few deep breaths and took a set of dark green robes down from the hangers. "Get dressed. Company will be here in less than an hour."

* * *

"You know kids can't control their magic," Astoria hissed. "You can't beat him every time he loses control."

"I didn't beat him," Draco said.

"This time."

"I'm going downstairs to receive the guests. Make sure they're ready, and that Abraxas isn't off sulking somewhere."

Astoria finished putting on her earrings and stormed down the hall. Scorpius came out of his room just before she got there. "You look wonderful, darling. Straighten your tie."

"Is Uncle Blaise coming?" Scorpius asked.

"Yes. Where's your brother?"

"Off sulking somewhere," Scorpius echoed his father.

Astoria rolled her eyes. "You may go downstairs with your father." She continued down the hall and looked into Abraxas' room. He wasn't there. "Abraxas?" She continued down the hall, looking in all of the rooms in the boys' wing. He wasn't in any of them. That left one place he could be. Abraxas didn't like to roam the different parts of the house. If he wasn't in his and Scorpius' wing, he was in the wand room.

Draco was, besides being a bit cruel, a little morbid. The wand room was his collection of wands from prisoners. He had over three hundred. Most of the owners of the wands had already been executed, but a few of them still remained alive. Alive, and haunted with the hope of one day holding a wand again.

"Merlin, he's a bastard sometimes," Astoria thought. Draco's games were really taxing….

She walked into the wand room and, just as she'd thought, Abraxas was there at one of the tables, holding a wand. "Abraxas, love, come downstairs. The guests will be here any minute."

"How did I get this wand?" Abraxas asked.

Astoria sighed. Most of the time, the memory charm worked perfectly. But sometimes, when confronted with something from his past, he'd forget the story they'd told him. Some things just didn't add up to him. "You found it on your hunting trip, remember? Right after your father and I adopted you, he took you and Scorpius hunting. You found that wand in the woods, and he let you keep it."

Abraxas looked down at it, and nodded. "Mother, why can't I remember things? What if I'm bad at magic because I can't remember spells?"

Astoria smiled at him and took his hand. She was thinking of another boy, a forgetful Gryffindor, who turned out to be great at magic. A Gryffindor who almost brought down their regime with less than fifteen people, and would've succeeded if he hadn't gone after Bellatrix. "I'm sure, when you get to Hogwarts, you'll be fine."

"Really?"

"Yes. Come on. I'm sure your godfather is here by now."

* * *

The party was massive, as always. Abraxas and Scorpius sat to the left and right, respectively, of Draco during dinner. Afterward, while the adults danced and mingled, they were required to sit quietly at the head of the room and receive people. They were only allowed to leave when the clock struck nine. If they wanted, they could visit the dessert table once.

It was while Abraxas was deciding between a slice of cake and some pudding that he felt a tap on the shoulder. "Uncle Blaise!"

"Good evening, Abraxas," Blaise said, hugging the boy.

Abraxas got a confused look. He shook his head, as if trying to get rid of a pesky fly. "My name…isn't Abraxas…."

Blaise walked with him back to the head of the room, but took him aside before the boy sat down. "What is your name?"

The boy blinked rapidly. "I don't know."

"Well then, go by Abraxas for now. And don't let your father hear you say that."

The boy nodded and went to sit with his brother.

* * *

The wizard pulled his jacket around him before jogging down the street to the mailbox. Muggle mail was slow, no doubt, but it worked. And no one could track the owls. He pulled a few envelopes out of the mailbox and walked back to his small house. The sounds of Lake Ontario wrapped around him. He tossed the letters onto the counter and took a couple slices of pizza out of the refrigerator. As the microwave hummed and heated his lunch, he shuffled through the mail. Bills mostly, but as he grabbed the pizza from the small box, he recognized one envelope as a letter. He took a bite of his pizza as he opened the letter. A second later, he choked. After coughing for a moment, then wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked back at what the letter said.

_James is alive._

The wizard put his food down and ran into his study. Trying to calm himself and control his breathing, he pulled out a sheet of parchment and began to write.

* * *

Abraxas was pulled unceremoniously from his sleep when he was dragged unceremoniously from his bed. "Wha—Father?"

"What's this about your name?" Draco asked quietly. "Do you not like it?"

"What?" Abraxas asked, still trying to catch up to what was going on.

"One of the servants told me you don't want Abraxas as your name. What's wrong with it? It was your great-grandfather's name. A good, strong, pureblood name."

"I didn't say I didn't want it," Abraxas said. "I just…forgot."

Draco slapped him, sending him sprawling to the floor. "I'm tired of this," he said fiercely. He pulled the boy to his feet and, holding him by the hair, pushed him into the wall. "You have no respect for your heritage, but by Merlin, Morgan le Fey, and all the founders of Hogwarts, I will teach it to you." He tightened his grip on Abraxas' hair. "I will teach you respect, if I have to beat it into you daily." He took out his wand, but a flash outside the window made him pause. He walked over and peered out of it, but he didn't see anything. Turning back to the boy, he saw him frozen to the wall in fear. He said nothing, but left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Abraxas slid to the floor, shaking. He sat there for a few minutes, breathing hard. Finally, still trembling, he grabbed his pillow and blanket and crept into his closet. Moving to the very back, he lay down and tried to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

_**LbN: Long wait = Long chapter! Sensitive material in this chapter, be warned. **_

Draco was as bad as his word.

It had taken three months of daily beatings for Abraxas to truly understand something—whatever he remembered from his past had to be suppressed. If there was a moment where he felt something was amiss, his feelings had to be kept hidden. If there was anything that he suddenly remembered, it went straight to the back of his mind. As long as he went through the motions of "proper behavior," even if he didn't understand them or agree with them, he could be reasonably sure that he wouldn't spend the next day sweltering in long sleeves that covered his bruises. Oddly enough, even though Draco openly hated him, he still seemed to like Abraxas best of the family. He'd been told, more than once, that his father wouldn't waste beatings on Scorpius, who couldn't handle them. And when he did behave properly, his rewards were generally richer than Scorpius's.

That was another odd thing. His relationship with his brother was better than anything thought possible. It even seemed to surprise them sometimes. Scorpius, though jealous that Abraxas was the favorite, protected his brother. Abraxas, though jealous that Scorpius didn't get beaten every day, tried to make Scorpius look good as much as possible. It wasn't an easy task. Scorpius was lazy, and a whiner, but he was what got Abraxas through some of the worst nights of his life.

Their ninth birthday was upon them sooner than either could have hoped. Since the age limit had been dropped for Hogwarts, they'd only have another year to wait. Their party was an elaborate affair—far too sophisticated for children, but then again, they were Malfoys. Abraxas had been perfect, as far as he knew. He'd made sure to be as pure-blooded as any of the adults in the room. Indeed, many had commented on how solemn and proper he seemed, much to Draco's pleasure. He'd even gone above and beyond the call of duty and engaged his crazy Aunt Bellatrix in a discussion about a family heirloom. It wasn't all that bad for once. If you tuned out the parts about "purity of blood" and "magical elite" then the history was pretty cool. His father had smiled approvingly, ran a hand through Abraxas's hair, and wandered away again to talk to Blaise.

As the night wound to a close, Draco beckoned to Abraxas. "Find your brother and go to my study. You may read, but touch nothing else."

"Yes, Father," Abraxas said with a nod. As he searched for Scorpius, he went over the night in his mind. Had he slipped up and done something wrong? Had he made a mistake somewhere? No, he thought, shaking his head. He'd been exceedingly careful, and Scorpius had helped him. Plus, even though his father could be very cruel, he hadn't taken to beating Abraxas in front of Scorpius. Not yet, anyway.

"I am impressed with the way you boys handled yourselves tonight," Draco said softly.

The house was quiet. Every tick of the clock was making Abraxas's hair stand on end. Still, part of the game was never showing fear until you knew that punishment was inevitable. So he sat up a little taller and waited for his adoptive father to say more.

"As you will be going to Hogwarts next year, your mother suggested to me that we might find it beneficial to hire a tutor for you. Not that we think you _need _the extra help, mind you. It's just so you'll have a bit of…extra comfort when heading out to Hogwarts. What say you?"

Abraxas ventured a smile, and when his father didn't glare at him, decided it was safe to answer. "I'd enjoy that, Father."

"Yes, me as well," Scorpius said. "Will we each have our own tutor, or the same?"

"Your own," Draco said. "However there may be days when you are together for your lessons."

"Yes Father," both boys said.

"Very well. You may go to bed now."

* * *

In the months that followed, both boys made progress under their tutors, but Abraxas worked the hardest and excelled. He had a young tutor, a witch named Persephone who was patient and funny and knew how to bring him out of his carefully made shell.

Scorpius, on the other hand, got stuck with a 75 year old wizard who thought hitting him with a ruler was good motivation.

Under the circumstances, it wasn't difficult to predict that Abraxas would do better. However, after a few months of tutoring, he began to be cautious about his marks. He did well enough to ensure that his father and mother would be pleased with him, but not enough to overshadow Scorpius. It was bad enough that the eldest Malfoy barely gave his first son the time of day, but he also took his resentment out on Abraxas.

"It's because you're his real son," Abraxas whispered one night. He was lying in the middle of the floor, too weak to get into bed after the beating he'd gotten.

Scorpius looked aghast. He hated when Abraxas referred to himself as "the bastard child" or insinuated that he wasn't truly a part of the family—even if it was true. "He's just in a bad mood."

"He wants you to do better than me."

"I'm trying to catch up," Scorpius said forlornly. He wrapped his brother's arm in a warm cloth. "It just doesn't come to me as well. Even when you have one of your headaches you can still do the work."

"Headaches" was the code term they'd come up with for the times when Abraxas's past memories became hard to ignore. He was having a lot of them these days.

"It's not your fault. I suppose I shouldn't show off so much."

Footsteps sounded in the hall, quickly coming toward Abraxas's room.

He let out a sob, knowing there wasn't anything he could possibly do to defend himself. Not that there ever was….

Scorpius took his hand and watched the door with the expression of a petulant lap-dog. It was unnecessary, however, because it was their mother who walked in.

"To bed Scorpius," she said softly. She pulled out her wand and levitated Abraxas into bed. "Now."

Scorpius nodded and complied.

Abraxas was in too much pain to do anything but lie there and weep. He did so as quietly as he could. How could he be sure his father wouldn't come back if he heard him?

"Calm down, son," his mother said. "You'll be fine. I think he may have cracked a few ribs tonight, so crying is just going to make it worse. Try taking a couple of breaths."

Abraxas did so, noting that it was probably more panic than pain at this point. He drank the potion offered to him without protest and allowed his mother to give him a kiss on the forehead before he closed his eyes to sleep.

* * *

"I think that'll be all for today, Abraxas," Persephone said with a smile.

"Yes, Persephone," Abraxas said. He was having one of his headaches again. They were always a lot stronger right after a lesson. The feeling of déjà vu was hard to ignore. He pushed it to the back of his mind as his dad walked into the study. "Hello, Father," he said brightly, hoping to cover anything amiss in his expression.

"Afternoon," Draco said, smiling at Persephone. "How are his marks?"

"Very good! He's a bright boy."

"What am I going to do without you when I go to Hogwarts?" Abraxas joked.

"Hopefully, by then, I'll be joining you. As a real professor."

"I'm sure the students would benefit from your enthusiastic style of teaching," Draco said with a smirk. "Abraxas has. Abraxas, would you excuse us?"

"Yes, Father," he said, piling his books on his desk. He left, but stood outside the door as they talked.

"Tell me truthfully," he heard his father say. "You and Phinnaes are in contact frequently about the boys, and you've had ample time to teach and observe both of them. I'd like to think that I can send both of them to Hogwarts, but if Scorpius is more suited for Durmstrang…." He said this last word with contempt, as if any child who went there didn't deserve to carry a wand.

Abraxas barely held back a gasp. Not only was Durmstrang far away from Hogwarts, it wasn't nearly as good of a school. It had a reputation for breeding thugs—low ranking Death Eaters that carried out the grunt work—while Hogwarts produced people like Draco. Smart, elegant, diplomatic…the people Voldemort needed to run the regime, in other words.

"Speaking frankly, I think both boys would do well at Hogwarts. No, I'm not sugar coating," she added with a laugh. Obviously Draco had given her a skeptical look. "Scorpius's talents lie in practical things. He excels when he is given the chance to _do _the magic. Abraxas does well by learning the theories behind the magic. No, I think they are both better off at Hogwarts. Especially since they'll be able to push each other."

Abraxas chanced a peek through the office door. His father had his back to him, and was nodding. That was a relief.

"Thank you, Persephone," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As quietly as possible, Abraxas slipped into the guest room where he wouldn't be seen. Opening a small door underneath the window, he took the servants' stairs down to the lower floor to find Scorpius.

* * *

The man paced his study. It had been a whole week since the last report. He was getting ready to do something drastic, when there was a soft tapping noise at his window. "Ahab!" he yelped, running to let the owl in. If they were corresponding by owl, it meant things were either really good, or really bad. All the letter said was:

_James is safe. Do nothing yet._

Unsatisfied, but unwilling to risk James's safety, the wizard took a few calming breaths and put the scroll in his pocket. "Come on in, Ahab. I think I can scrounge up some food for you." He managed a smile as the bird flew in. The message wasn't enough, but for the moment, it gave him hope.

_**Fin**_

_**

* * *

**_**_LbN: Send reviews please! I love getting feedback. Even if you think I'm a bit off on a character, or that something needs to change, tell me! My feelings won't be hurt. *pinkie promise* :)_**


End file.
